17/Do.Not.Cry

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Gwen's POV

I must have called at least five more times, before I eventually gave up. "He hates me. Hates me."

I hiccupped as a tear slid down my cheek, followed by another. 

Why did I push him away? I needed him, far more than I'd care to admit. Taking one more chance, I pulled my phone out and sent him one text.

Peter, please. I need to talk to you.

Groaning, I stretched and stood up. A light was on in the kitchen. I shrugged and walked that way. My mother sat at the dining room table, a cup of coffee in her hands as she seemed to be in deep thought. Her features brightened once she caught sight of me.

"Hey, sweetie. Why are you up?"

I shook my head, "Couldn't sleep, I guess."

She nodded in understanding before motioning for me to sit down. I obeyed. 

After a few minutes of silence, she gently asked, "How are you feeling? About everything."

I closed my eyes. Don't cry. Don't let the tears fall. Don't give in. Do.Not.Cry.

"Fine. Frustrated mostly." I took a deep breath before saying, "Peter's mad at me."

My mom's eyes widened in shock. "I don't understand. Why?"

I choked back another sob. 

Do.Not.Cry.

"I um..practically kicked him out of the house earlier. I didn't want him just taking pity on me." I mumbled. "I don't blame him really."

"No!" she tried comforting me. "Have you tried-"

"I called him. Multiple times."

She appeared to be thinking, "Maybe if I rang up May...." She looked at me and offered a small smile, "I'll call Peter's aunt. She'll talk to him."

"No, Mom-" I object, but she is already pulling out her phone.

"Nonsense," she swatted her hand. "You and Peter...."

Sighing, I slump my head down on the table and groan out the words being exchanged. I don't sit back up until I feel a pat on my head.

"Gwen," my mother's eyes were grim, and my stomach clenched. "Peter's been admitted to the hospital."

A/N

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